Board Shorts
by A Pen and a Piece of Mind
Summary: How he had managed to find the same exact pair from their first date she would never know. But here they were, like some lost relic she never wanted to visit again. Haunting her from beyond the island she thought they would be forgotten and buried at.


Board Shorts

"What are you doing?" Claire called from the living room. Owen was in their bedroom down the hall trying to find something judging by the sounds of things. She heard a drawer open and close followed by a small curse word as another drawer opened.

"I can help you find whatever you're looking for."

"No. Stay there," Owen called from the bedroom. She ran a hand through her hair, it had gotten longer in the year since Jurassic World, like all things she had let most of what she used to be change and grow. She kept the heels though. She loved her heels. And currently they were tapping away on the floor. She was getting impatient.

What was so important that she wasn't allowed to walk around in her own damn house? _Their_ damn house, she corrected herself.

They moved from Costa Rica to San Diego. She left Masrani Corp with a nice little severance package and he got a job at the San Diego zoo. They stuck together for survival and even in the darkest moments, the nightmares that wouldn't stop and the tears that followed, they survived. And they were happy.

But that didn't mean they didn't have their fights. And if Claire had to stand in the same spot for one more minute they were about to have another one.

"Seriously, just let me…" She started to walk towards the hallway when Owen appeared.

"I told you to wait," he said with a smile.

"For what?" She looked down and that's when she saw _them_. Her face dropped, any hint of a smile gone as she stared at the hideous, bright orange board shorts. How he had managed to find the same exact pair from their first date she would never know. But here they were, like some lost relic she never wanted to visit again. Haunting her from beyond the island she thought they would be forgotten and buried at.

"What are you wearing?"

"You like 'em?" Owen's smile grew as he paraded in front of her. She narrowed her eyes, the bright orange almost hurting them. Oh how she hated those shorts.

"And as a bonus." From behind his back Owen produced a bottle of tequila in one hand, two glasses in the other. He placed them on the coffee table, pouring it into the glasses, practically beaming at his own cleverness.

Claire stared at the bottle then back to the shorts. Was he being serious? Did he not remember how awful it had actually gone? Why was he trying to relive this?

"What? Your diet not allow for tequila?" Owen gave her a wink. Claire stifled her own smile and silently cursed herself for the small twitch. It was a battle with each other, to see who would crack first, and she just did. She hoped he hadn't seen but judging by the way his eyes brightened, she knew he had.

Still that didn't stop Claire from trying to keep up the annoyed appearance. She pointed to the clock, "It's three in the afternoon."

"So? You don't have to be at work. I have the day off." He picked up the glasses and handed one to her.

"Yeah I don't think so." She put her glass back down. He shrugged and drank his before putting his own empty glass on the table beside the bottle.

From the pocket of the awful board shorts, they were just so bright, she couldn't get over them, he produced two pieces of folded up paper. One, he unraveled, while the other he kept firmly in the small square it had been creased into.

"Well that just won't do. You see on the itinerary here I have us both enjoying a drink and then…" He looked up at her as he read over his schedule and there was something in the look that made her stomach flip.

"Do I comment on the board shorts?" She asked, no longer fighting the smile spreading across her face. He didn't even fight his smirk.

He checked the itinerary, his brows furrowing as he read it over like it was a serious document instead of one he had handwritten on notebook paper. He nodded, "Ah yep, it's the first on the list, wow we are all over the place on this thing." He made a tsk noise, "I guess we'll just have to skip to page two."

"Page two?"

"Maybe you should read it, you're better at these things than I am." He handed her the folded piece. She glanced from him to the paper as she started to gently unfold it.

"I won't argue with you on that."

He laughed at that one. She turned it over, realizing she had it upside down as she made out the chicken scratch handwriting in the middle of the page.

Four words, that's all that was written. Four words that made her heart pound and swell. Four words that made her feel like all the air had left the room but in the best way possible.

She lowered the paper and found Owen on one knee, a ring in his hand, waiting for her response.

"Will you?" He asked, all the hope in the world in his eyes.

And her eyes fell to the shorts. Those damn shorts. She lowered the paper, letting out a breath.

"No," she started, "It's not you…it's just…the shorts."

His face fell and she broke into a laugh, "I'm kidding of course. Yes, I'll marry you."

He let out a sigh of relief then stood as he put the ring on her finger. "That was mean."

"You wore the shorts," she said as she pulled him in for a kiss.

"You love them."

"I love you. I hate the shorts."

"Well then why don't I take them off?" He raised an eyebrow and she felt her skin flush.

He lifted her over his shoulder and she laughed, taking the tequila with them to the bedroom. They did have the day off after all and they had just gotten engaged. They should celebrate.

She could learn to love the shorts.


End file.
